The Dream Continues Ch 02

Authors Note - Please read "The Beginning....." and "The Dream Continues" series. They may you understand this tale.

We had just finished the most perfect virgin anal sex. We were instant converts, and became immediate anal addicts.

I had nothing to do that evening. She had a business appointment. We bathed, and she dressed in an exquisite, tailored, dark blue, business suit.

She chose a fine white, fully tailored, blouse. It was slightly transparent, complete with many darts. It was a work of art that fitted closely everywhere. It tucked into the belt of a tight skirt, virtually without a ruck. I completely concurred; she was an apparition of business beauty.

She decided to wear the French bra. This would keep her nipples erect while she attended her evening meeting. She said that the movement of her nipples on the fabric would constantly keep me close to her thoughts. She would keep her jacket on, so her visible nipples were to be our secret.

She looked stunning as we went, fully dressed, to the kitchen. She prepared a late tea, then hoisted herself nimbly onto a worktop to eat hers. The tight skirt rose up those delectable thighs, exposing the tops of stockings, and suspender clips. I could see the crotch of her white panties. It was all too much.

I grabbed her, lifted her off her skirt, and rolled it above her arse. Together we literally tore her panties off, actually ripping the side seams on both sides. I dragged them from under her with both hands, and threw them across the room. Her smell was everywhere.

Later we both said that our actions felt almost like an animalistic, ritualistic rape.

She lent back. I buried my face in her bush, found her clitoris, and began two alternative attacks. I nibbled. I sucked on it hard, and long. I took it between my teeth, as deeply as I could, then I chewed. I formed my lips into an "O", and drew it deep into my mouth as though it was one of her nipples, or a small penis. It began to fill my mouth. She wriggled and squirmed with delight. I let my teeth slide down to the very end, then I bit hard. She yelped with pleasure.

I was like a wild animal.

I have always been a "twice a day man". I have a six o'clock shadow, and need to shave twice a day. If I do not I am likely to skin a girl alive with the bristles on my chin.

We had also found that virtually permanent, wonderful sex, did wonders to the growth rate of my fingernails, my hair, and of course my beard. The latter ran wild! It appeared to grow faster, and faster! By now, early in the evening, I had a chin full of stubble.

I stopped my attack on her clit. Her labia were still deep red, and engorged, from our earlier fuck. I parted those beautiful lips by running my nose up and down the length, drinking in the glorious aromas. I wiggling my chin from side to side to completely open her up.

I think I began to understand the meaning of "eating her out". Few can have had such a wonderful meal, or eaten of such an exotic table.

The inner faces of her lips were the most perfect soft skin on earth. I revelled in the pliant, baby smooth softness, and wetness, of her inner body. I deliberately dragged my stubble over her tender flesh. My chin moved up and down, and side to side, rasping her inner lips. Gentle murmurs came for within her soul. We were at the gates of heaven.

I repeated both cycles, biting on her clit, and rubbing my chin deep within her parted lips, knowing that I was taking her nearer, and nearer, to another shattering orgasm. She held my head to herself with such intensity that I could hardly breath. My nose was buried in her bush. I could hardly breathe. I had only use my face to take her on this journey. My arms were braced either side of her body.

She let out a long gurgling scream of pleasure. It came from deep, deep within her body. She hugging me even harder to her soul, and suddenly she was sliding down the steep slope of ecstasy, her whole self gently shaking with joy.

Nothing but my chin, lips, teeth and tongue, had ever touched her. My face was lathered in her juices, and my nose was wet. Her smell was everywhere. I wanted to keep it, and her, with me for the rest of my life.

Later she said that the orgasm was especially powerful because she was still coming down from the anal fuck that had started while she spoke to her husband.

I believed her fully.

She pushed her hips forward to the edge of the worktop. I dropped my trousers to my ankles, and I fucked her with total abandon. She was soft, and pliable, as she descended from the heights, full of care, and gentle touching.

We had already come five times in the past 24 hours, but my erection was as stiff as ever. This time there was virtually no cum as I came to a gentle orgasm inside her. There were tears of love in her eye. We were totally at one.

No part of her clothing had been moved, except her skirt, and panties. She still wore her fine jacket, and the blouse that hid those perfect nipples. We thought that she would not leak much as she slipped on a new pair of panties. We had forgotten about her arse. I had been so deep, that, inspite of a good bath, and my caring cleaning, it was still full of our cum!

We both left at the same time, neither knowing when we could meet again, but sure that it would not be long, and that it did not matter if it was. I wondered if she should drive so soon after coming down from her orgasm, but she said that she was OK.

We talked later that evening. The meeting had been long, and dull, and the worst had happened again. Cum had leaked from her back passage through her clothing onto her seat. Our cleaning bills were going to be large!

She also said, with a light chuckle, deliberately pitched to set me afire, that she had to walk with great care. She found that rolling her hips was exquisite. It must have looked extraordinarily sexy. Each step reminded her of me, so she need not have worn the French bra!

The blessed girl must have been very sore. Neither of us was particularly surprised. My chin would have been like rough glass paper! I apologised, and she gurgled again. Then she said that the sensation was absolutely wonderful. She described how her lips were hot, almost on fire from my rubbing, but that the balm of her own juices was soothing them. She said that she found the whole sensation totally new, erotic, and very, very sexy.

Business might have kept us apart for a long time, but a week or so later we agreed to meet, for lunch, at a halfway house, a secluded village inn.

Over lunch she whispered that, shortly after our last lovemaking, her breasts had started to give a little milk. I was in ecstasy. I am completely a breast man, and any that are giving milk round off the fetish. It was extraordinary how sensual she was.

She sat, quietly telling me that she had come out wearing the French bra so that her nipples were as exposed as possible; yet discretely hidden beneath a casual dark shirt.

Gently she took one of my hands, turned it to her left breast, and pressed the palm to her chest. I felt her nipple through the fabric. It began to harden. I squeezed her breast very tenderly, and my hand came away damp. A small patch of wet began to spread on the blouse. She then said that she was becoming very wet down below.

We rushed through lunch, left her car in the car park, and found a quiet spot in a small wood. She had stripped to the waist before we stopped, so I gave her my dark wool tank top as slight cover. I knew nothing of how a girl likes to milk her breast, but that afternoon I learnt fast.

She pulled a breast through the armhole of the tank top. That, in itself, was startlingly erotic. The woollen top was all at an odd angle, with a bare arm, the perfect globe of her breast, and the erect teat exposed.

She took her breast in both hands, and gently massaged towards the nipple with both her fingers and thumbs. Small beads of milk appeared from several glands.

I had not been so close to a milk giving breast since my mother nursed me. It was all new.

Rivulets trickled down, each on a separate path. Sensuously, still using both hands, she held her now fully engorged nipple up for me to drink.

Quietly, in a small voice, she said "please drink of me, it is all for you". I drank. Then I licked the fast drying trickles from her breast, and began to suckle like a babe.

After a while she took her nipple from my mouth, with the care of a nursing mother. The teat slipped back behind the tank top.

She exposed the other with feline care, gently milked it with her fingers, produced beads of milk, and I drank again.

She explained that she had been asleep on her stomach with both breasts flattened by the weight of her body. She was sleeping nude, but was awakened by slight dampness where she did not expect it. It was milk. When she massaged her breasts they slowly filled, not to the point of bursting, as with a girl late in pregnancy, or feeding an infant, but in a sensual new way.

She said it felt wonderful, as it always had been when she fed her children, but that being in love made it better now, than it ever had been before.

If they slowly became too full, and I was not there to drain them, she simply milked them into her bath. It was a waste, but she was totally practical about it. This made our pleasure even greater.

I knew that she had given birth, and breast fed her children for many months. So she was not particularly alarmed by this turn of events; but she talked to her doctor to be sure. It seemed that it was quite common for aroused women, who had breast fed, to do this. Apparently it also sometimes happened to girls at any age beyond puberty, even when they had never given birth.

The only question asked, which was were both breasts giving milk. They were, which seems to be important.

As business was not taking me near her home, we continued to meet at the half way house for a while. I continued to drink milk from those delectable teats, and we began to fuck in the most unlikely ways and places. We made love in the car, but did not find it particularly fulfilling. We began to experiment again.

She always looked best in tight waisted flared skirts, especially with a close fitting bodice that showed her glorious tits.

One summer, long ago, while working in Venice, Italy, I realised why all the Italian Girls dating in Saint Mark's Square wore flouncing, flared skirts, which they tossed out as they sat down. Two things were happening, firstly they also wore no panties, and secondly they sat, bare bummed, on the cool marble of the seats that surround the Square. Boyfriends would move very close, apparently sitting on their hands. Well they were not. Their hands were elsewhere. We adopted the same technique as the young Italians. She would come out without panties, or remove them as we met. Anticipation of what was in store made her very wet. I could easily slip into her cunt, but the greatest fun was anal sex. It was possible to use her cunt juices to lubricate her back passage, then to gently slide my penis into her anus.

Moving in slowly, and with great care, always reminded her of our first anal fuck. It reminded her that I had taken her from behind, without asking, while she had been calmly talking to her husband on the telephone.

I just pushed in, and came to rest buried deep inside her bum. She continued to find the thoughts of the sensations that I caused truly erotic. It helped her relax every time.

We would stand, with me very close behind, while, for example, she gripped a railing looking at a spectacular view. I would push, and nuzzle in, very close to her back. Remember that she was a feline creature, so she would wriggle, and purr, as we came into exceptionally close contact.

When she was ready she would reach behind with one hand. She would slowly pull, and lift, the back of her skirt, rolling it up so it was held between us.

To any casual onlooker, the front and sides of the skirt would look as perfect as ever, as with the girls in Venice. From a distance we would be seen as two lovers pressed tightly together in a hug, with both my hands pressing on the light swelling of her belly.

Usually, once her skirt was in place, she would gently draw down my zip, push her hand in, and gather up my raging cock. By then my erections could be so enormous that it was not difficult with one hand. She would move me about until I slipped between her legs.

My immediate sensation would be of her wet cunt, and the lower part of her bush, gently painting my cock with her lubrication. Once I started rubbing the underside of her slit she would press her thighs together to increase the grip, expel more juices, and add to the feeling of pleasure for us both.

She always had control in a public place.

When she was ready, and all about was also ready, she would replace her hands in front of her. She would then move imperceptibly forwards and backwards. I would keep my hips still.

A casual onlooker would see that my hands remained flat on her stomach pressing and releasing on her dress. Her lower body would gently rock, and, in time, my steel hardness would be completely lubricated with her juices.

She would move again, and my penis would stop at the entrance to her anal passage.

Then it only took a slight, almost imperceptible, backwards movement of her hips, and the head would snap past her sphincter. We would be locked together. Some days we would simply stand still like this for a long time. We were never hurried making love in this way.

We stopped if a passer by might come too close, or, more often; we were just stopped to relish the moment. When she was ready she would slowly slide me fully into the Promised Land.

It was spectacularly erotic. It was very exciting. It appeared to be more so when there were other people around. As far as we were concerned, the more people the merrier. It simply added to the thrill. We had to move imperceptibly slowly, gently in and out, while she learnt to use her anal muscles to amazing effect.

Ultimately she could bring me to an orgasm without my moving at all.

I would continue to wrap my arms around her wonderful hips, my hands pressing on her stomach, moving up to her breasts if the time was right. Sometimes I would cum first, but the better she got at manipulating her anal muscles, the better she got at moving other muscle sets.

Then we would quietly cum together, my sperm gently jetting into her anal canal; my friend gripping me even tighter as she came herself.

Loving, while we were away from homes, became very tender and creative.

Sometimes she would arrive looking absolutely stunning in a simple, tent like, bell like, linen shift dress with wide spaced buttons down the joint. We discovered that it was extraordinarily useful. It could be worn with buttons to the front, or with the buttons to the back.

It was surprising how many times it became necessary for her to sit on my knee in a public place!

After a while nobody seemed to notice, so with buttons to the front, a hand could slip between them onto naked skin, move up to hold a bare breast, or one supported by her French bra. Then I would gently stroking a nipple, milk and squeeze it as her moods changed, but finally my hand would move for my fingers to rest deep in her cunt.

This dress was dangerous. It was a particular hazard when worn backwards. It became all too easy for her to sit innocently on my knee. She would then shift around and fidget, as girls do, until nobody noticed.

Then my cock could be slipped quietly between the buttons, passed the edges of her dress, and into her cunt. Occasionally, she would raise her hips; slowly bend forwards, as though to scratch her lower leg, then my penis could be popped into her anus.

We would fuck, yet to a casual onlooker, we would look like an innocent couple of lovers, with the girl sitting on his knee, enjoying the view. We would climax with others around us.

We learnt to bottle up our emotions until we were alone. Then we could smother each other with the kisses of love. Often laughing for joy at our experiences, telling little stories of our feelings, and our observations of what had been going on around us.

Once we had climaxed we would slowly, imperceptibly, reverse the pattern of our coupling. She would be wet and dripping, but she always found that wonderfully sensual. I could be a mess, but I quickly learnt to wear dark clothes so that it would not show too badly until later!

We continued meeting, and loving, like this for while.

We were content in the knowledge that there would always be more voyages of sexual discovery, more moments of intense love, and happiness. There were more adventures of love to come.

We made no forward plans. We waited quietly for the chance to be together again, in a home, or for a longer time in another place.

These chances came, but there will be more on that later.

To be continued...

Gussie would love comments, and your votes!

(c) Copyright Gussie - June 2003